Ye are chained in yon Ban Chamber, and ye have been unconscious till now. Ye have no memory of what occured foretright to grant ye this situation, nor can ye remember who thou art.

Air in yon dungeon is dank and smells of spoiled dungturd. Thy cotton clothes are stained and a bit too itchy. Ye eyes spy no souls in sight, and thou prays to Escee thy not be next in line for permacution.

Ye look at the lock on yon cell door..... but what lo??? Ye cell door is open. Yon ring of keys hang innocently from it's opened lock. Thy rushes out for sweet freedom..... but then thou remembers thou is still chained up, and not going anywhere. Thy Self-Esteem Meter falls 3 cubics at such an oversight.

Ye look up at ye wrist shackles and see small key holes at thy wrists, and yon chain bound fastly to a wooden stake in yon wall above ye muddled head. Ye feet are also bound by ankle shackles, though they be much more comfortable.

Ye focuses thy mind gather together thy power of the magiks, to call forth the ethereal power of yon cosmos. Ye cast LOOK, empowering thy eyes with the ability perceive thy surroundings, no matter how dank and displeasing it may be.

Ye find yeself in yon Ban Cell, where banned users are shackled in chains and await judgment by the Mods. Thick walls enclose ye, with yon barred gate with ring of keys close in front of ye, though just out of arms reach. Looking around, ye spy yon skeleton, shackled to thy right side, in all-to-similar cotton clothes. In yon skeletons pocket rests Ye Flask. Yon bones may be dead, but it appears he's already made more progress than you.

Ye thinks to make noise to wake yon nearby sleepers for help. But ye hands are bound in shackles and cannot reach. Ye may be able to reach with thine leg and foot, but alas they be bound in shackles as well. Ye wonders why thy keeps forgetting yon shackles.

Ye quickly goes to work on yon shackles, be the angle awkward. Try as ye might though, yon pin will not open thy locks. Thy keyhole be much too small. Ye curse thyself for having such small, nerdish wrists. It might work on thy awkwardly larger ankle shackles though, as they feel much loser a fit. If only ye had a hand not bound, ye could reach.

Kraven213 said:

> get ye flask

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You can't get Ye Flask.

Traptor25 said:

://hack

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Thy cannot hack without hands and a comp, neither of which thy can use well at this point. Ye Gamer Chalice drips 6 Quartites for attempting to cheat, and forgetting ye shackles yet again.

Ye give thyself yon bonk on the noggin, hoping it all be but a bad dream. Alas ye does not wake up, and instead has a lump. Ye lose 4 HP.

zeldahoolin said:

>Pull wrists towards self with force

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Ye pull down thy wrists with all thy might, but yon wooden stake is fastened too deep in the wall. Plus thou is but a weak internetz nerd, thou's chains are too strong and yon shackles too tight. Ye might be able to squeeze a hand free with a viable lubricant.

Thou art now fatigued from headlump and arm strain. Force be naught the answer here.

Ye call out to yon sleeping owl for assistance, but thy voice is hoarse and faint from dehydration, and ye frail cries fall on deaf feathery ears. Thou tries to rattle thy chains, but they be much too thick and rusted together to make much rattle. Peraps if ye rattled something much more rattle-worthy ye'd recieve yon avian's audience.

Dr.Chocolate said:

>Hulk smash locks

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Lord Hulk is traveling abroad in France on holiday. And I doubt he'd help ye after thy lude comments thou said about his cousin, She-Hulk, whilst drunk at yon office party.

Traptor25 said:

>give up, go to sleep

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Ye find it all hopeless and decide to rest thy mind. But alas thou cannot sleep, for the smell of dungturd be more putrid than a pair of Imperator Brad's 2-week old tunic pantaloons. Thou must find a way out before it overtakes the and thy descends further into madness.

nate38 said:

>TASTE lantern oil

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Ye stretches out thy tongue near thy right shackle and yon oil drips into thy mouth. Thy regrets it instantly as thy oil is spoiled past it's expiration date, and tastes like ass. Despite such, it is loose and slippery and goes down well. Ye Thirst Whistle be wet by 2 swig levels.

nate38 said:

>SEDUCE skeleton

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Thy skeleton shows no interest in thou's awkward sexual advances, and is not particularly smitten by thou's nerdly appearance, girlish wrists, and bad case of headlump. Even a skeleton has standards.

Yon skeleton on thy right side be long rotted and dead, as a skeleton would be. Ye decide to name yon skeleton "Dead Bones Brook" as that sounds cool. Dead Bones Brook wears yon cotton clothes identical to ye's, and likely all yon prisoners. Brook hangs listly by yon rotted wrist shackles, his soles barely reach the ground. By Brook's feet rest lies ye old cane and ye old top hat, likely his last possessions. Yon wooden stake above Brook's crackled skull be half-burnt, but still strong enough to hold yon shackles.

Within Brook's chest pocket rests Ye Flask. You want to get ye flask, but ye cannot get ye flask. Ye is troubled by this misfortune and wish thy right arm was free to covet the bauble.

Thou's HP is almost at zero due too much fatigue, rattling, headlump, nasty oil, and overexposure to dungturd. Further damage somehow results in death. Thou cannot muster the courage to face yon reaper just yet.

SSJ5Vegeta said:

>Get Ye Flask

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You can't get Ye Flask.

Whogie said:

>Use foot on cane

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Though reaches with thy foot and are able to drag the old cane closer to thyself. Alas, thy hands are bound and thou cannot pick it up. And ye had a full broadway dance number planned and everything. Oh well.

blinkz0rz said:

Put lantern oil on wrists to slide through shackles

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Ye suddenly get a spark of intelligence! Ye moves close to you lantern oil and are able to stick thy right shackle beneath its spoiled drip. After much effort, thou is able to slide a hand free! Thy thanks Captain Jack Sparrow for the idea.

Yon lantern seems to have stopped dripping pre-scriptingly. It would seem there be no more oil for thy other hand, and thou is still shackled indefinitely. But thou now has a hand free to work with.

Evan. said:

>Summon Owl with new lubricated throat whistle

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With thy loosely lubricated throat, thou is able to muster a hoarse whistle. However yon owl is only soothed deeper into sleep by thy melodious tones. Ye need find something more annoying.

yoshidude said:

Put on thoust robe and wizard hat.

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Thou does not have thoust robe and wizard hat. They must be in thou's other pants.

Before ye can grab yon cane and defend thyself, yon Spam Rat descends upon the and gnaws out thy eyes with it's spammy furry. Yon plague-filled spam overclocks thy server and thy is disconnected from the realm of the living.

THOU ART DEAD.

Evan loses 500 pts.

Whogie said:

>Masturbate furiously

>Use bobby pin on ankle shackles

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Thou respawns at last Save Point, just before ye foolishly and greedily grabbed ye flask. Guided by an ethereal force, ye choose a different option this time. A messier one. Relieved and a bit chapped, ye Courage Meter now be full.

Once ye has finished, ye remembers yon bobby pin and go to work on yon ankle shackles.

*CLICK*

Success! Yon ankles now be free of shackle and shackle-related ailments. Ye can freely move thy legs and right arm, but thy left arm still be holding ye in place. Thou art only 3/4ths free.

Thy uses thy free legs to kick up yon old cane, and add it to thy inventory.

Yon Spam Rat be too quick of the cunning. Even armed with yon old cane, thou would need animal-like reflexes to dispatch the repugnant vermin. But alas though art but a fatigued nerd chained to a wall with no knowledge or memory of how to fend off disgruntled rodents. Thou would need assistance from an expert, lest ye be rat chow.

yoshidude81 said:

Take the hat. You have a top hat and therefore win.

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Ye use yon old cain to reach yon old top hat, and triumphantly add it to thy inventory.

Thats what i came in here thinking, but now i just wanna win. I can't believe the first page is almost over and we're still in the damn cell. This is gonna take a while, as long as dillo keeps it up. I find 1 meaningful thread, that you can post in again and again, is more filling than a 'what about ______ aspect of your life'.

Ye bang and rattle yon cane against thy cell wall, creating a measurable ruckus. Yon owl rustles its feathers in mild disturbance, but still chooses to ignore the and doze back off. Ye are still not quite annoying enough to be granted his attention, amazing as that be.

Ye reaches over to Dead Bones Brook to covet a bone. Ye firmly grasp his clavicus majorus and pop it right out as it should(he's got 6 more, not like he'll miss one). Ye attempt to somehow form some kind of leverage with yon strangely-named bone, but to thy dismay, it shatters to dust. Yon bones are far too old rotted and old to be of any purposed use, and thy entire chain-removing, owl-catching, thumb dislocating scheme is foiled.

Ye kick it into 5th gear and channel all thy adrenaline into thy annoying rattling. In a hyper driven seizure, thy cane is launched from thy hand and crashes against yon cell gate, knocking lose yon ring of keys. Both cane and keys clash against yon gate with much clanging and jingling.

Thy's avian friend can take no more. Yonder Sleeping Owl has evolved into Pissed-Off Owl. With his fierce glare he eyeballs you from atop his dimly lit lantern perch with a gaze that penetrates through your soul like Tingle's wang through Vorn's butthole.

Thy recovers from Hyper-drive, thou's Hyper Attack Gauge back at zero. Ye retrieves yon cane with a reach of the foot, and re-adds it thy inventory.